


Stronger

by MissyLaMotte



Category: Leverage
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 00:19:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9211514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissyLaMotte/pseuds/MissyLaMotte
Summary: What if Parker and Eliot had met as teenagers? Eliot has just finished school and is jobbing at a gym for the summer, when a skinny young girl shows up who desperately wants to become stronger.





	1. The Girl Who Didn't Want to Be Called Lisa

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for mentioning of child abuse/sexual abuse
> 
> Can contain traces of language ... but my guess is if you are a "Teen and Up" and you are on the internet, you will have come across most 4-letter words anyway and won't faint when you see one.

Eliot cleared away another weight plate with a sigh. If there was anything that annoyed him about his job at the gym, it was that the clients never bothered to tidy up after themselves. On any regular work day, he carried around more dumb bells, kettle bells, bars and weight plates than any bodybuilder or heavy lifter who came in to train here, without even starting on his own excercise routine. But it was only a temporary job anyway, just to help him make some money over this first summer after highschool before he could enlist for the military. And since he had spent most of his spare time in this gym anyway, he had gladly taken Fredo's job offer to help out four days a week. 

The last clients for the day had gone, it was time to close up for the day. When he turned around to the window, his lips curled into a smile. There was that scrawny kid again. She, he was pretty certain she was a she, even though her body was too young to develop breasts or any other female curves yet and she always wore a baseball cap hiding her hair, had been standing outside the window staring in through the "o" in the "Fredo's Gym" lettering on the glass pane for four days in a row now. There was a sense of hunger and longing in her eyes. Eliot raised a hand and gave her a little friendly wave. She looked startled, and for a moment he expected her to turn around and run off, as she had done on the nights before, but instead, she managed a small smile herself and waved back. It was a shy, little motion. 

Eliot walked over to the door. Before he had even reached it, she was backing away, cautiously, like a stray cat that expected stones to be thrown at it. He widened his smile even more, trying to look as harmless as he could, even though he was aware that the black eye he sported after a successful yet not completely painless Tae Kwon Do tournament last weekend, did not neccessarily help matters here. By the time he had pulled the door open she had retreated as far as the entrance to the back alley cutting behind the gym. 

"Hello there", Eliot said still loud enough for her to hear him, yet as softly as possible. "Would you want to come in and have a look around?"

Her eyes lit up in surprise, yet she hesitated, her gaze darting back and forth between her planned escape route along the alley and him standing in the door.

"Could I? Really?"

"Sure. I don't bite, I promise." 

He stepped aside, holding the door open for her and with another nervous look around, this time as if she was making sure that no one saw her enter, she slipped inside. He half expected her to bolt out again when the door closed behind her with a quiet click, but actually, it rather seemed to relax her. 

"I am Eliot", he introduced himself and held out his hand. She shook it and her grip was surprisingly firm for such a small person.

"Thanks", she said. He tried to keep the amusement off his face, but did not quite succeed. 

"What's so funny?", she wanted to know.

"Well, normally, that would have been the moment when you gave me your name as well, you know?"

She sighed. 

"It's Lisa. Lisa Shoemaker. But don't call me that. I hate that name."

"So, what do you want me to call you then?", he inquired.

She shrugged. "Whatever"

"Well, what do your friends call you?"

"Don't have any friends. Just moved here."

"Okay, so what about your parents? What do they call you?"

"Don't have parents either", she said matter of factly, no noticable emotion accompanying that piece of information.

"I'm sorry", Eliot said. "So, who do you live with?"

"I have foster parents." She spit the words out with disgust. "They call me Lisa ... which might be the reason I don't like the name."

Eliot decided to leave it at that for now. Names were overrated anyway, as far as he was concerned.

"So, I noticed you standing out there at the window the past few days. You could just have come in, you know?"

"Yeah, but I thought ... I mean, don't you have to be a member or something?"

"People who train here regularly have to become members, yes. But it is kind of difficult to become a member without walking through that door first. Plus we offer free trials for up to a month for beginners."

She lifted her head at that, her eyes wide. 

"Really, like it does not cost anything? Could I do that?"

Eliot bit his lip and wished he had kept his mouth shut. 

"Yeah, maybe, but probably not right now. How old are you?"

"Fourteen"

He raised his eyebrows. She didn't look a day older than twelve. 

"We normally have a minimum age requirement of sixteen. It is not good to start with weight training too early, you know. The skeleton and the joints have to be fully developed first, or there could be damage."

Plus the clients did not like it when the place turned into a playground while they were trying to concentrate on their workout, but he was not going to tell her that. She looked disappointed enough as it was.

"But I need to get strong. I can't wait for another two years."

He felt bad for getting her hopes up. 

"Maybe you can do other sports. How about at school? Did you try out for any of the teams?"

She shook her head.

"Told you I just moved here. Try outs were already over for the season. Plus I don't want to play softball or soccer. I just want to get stronger. I need to get stronger." 

Eliot smiled at the determination in her voice. 

"Okay then. Let's see what you've got. Maybe I can show you a few excercises you can do at home."

He lead the way over to the squat rack. 

"Now, do you know how to do a squat?", he asked. She started squatting up and down at a speed that made him dizzy. 

"Like so?", she asked without ever slowing down.

"Whoah, easy. Yeah, like so, but about 10 times slower. It is not about jumping up and down like a frog. You have to do them proper, keep your back straight and your weight over your legs. Keep your heels on the floor at all times and try not to let your knees go inwards. Better."

She had slowed down and was following his directions without much difficulty.

"Okay. Stop. That's looking good. Now we are going to add some weight to that."

He looked around. The lightest bar alone weighed 20 pounds, even without any plates added to it and he doubted she could handle the length of it very well.

"Let's take dumbbells." 

He grabbed a pair of relatively small dumbbells of the shelf and handed it to her.

"One in each hand. Now set them on your shoulders like so."

He demonstrated with another, heavier pair for himself.

"And now do the squats again. Nice and slow."

It still did not seem to provide much of a problem for her. She matched each of his squats with ease and did not seem to tire at all. 

"Okay. Not bad. Stop ... that's enough", he told her, when she kept continueing to push herself up and down. 

"But I'm not even tired yet", she protested.

"Good. Because we are not finished yet. You have to learn to pace yourself. That's important. You always do a set with a certain number of reps. Let's say ten. And then you stop for a little bit, just half a minute or so, before you do the next set."

"But why? Why can't I just do as many as I can?"

"Because then you will be too tired to do the next excercise properly."

That seemed to satisfy her. 

"So, what are we going to do next?"

"Let's try bench presses. Lie down here!", he patted one of the benches and the girl who did not want to be called Lisa flopped onto it.

"Feet on the ground", he directed. This time he used the lightest of the bars, holding it up for her. "Raise your arms, so that the hands are directly over the shoulders and grab the bar. That's good. Now lower the bar until it almost touches your breast and then raise it up again. Slowly. Don't jerk it up and down like that. Again, you don't want to go as fast as you can. Actually, it is more difficult and requires more strength when you do it slowly. That's it. Come on. Give me one more. And another one."

She had started to pant slightly, but determinantly kept pushing the bar up. He made sure to always keep a hand under it, ready to grip it should her muscles fail. After 10 reps he gripped the bar and held it up so that she could take a break.

"Stand up. Stretch your arms and your back or whatever other part of your body feels tense. Now lie back down. Ready for another set?"

Eliot loved how eager she was. He was cautious not to overload her and to stop her before she would excert herself too much, but he could tell that she was a fighter. Even when her little arms started to shake under the weights, she would force herself to push out another rep, and another if he asked for it. They worked out for almost an hour before he finally made her stop. 

"But I can do more", she insisted, even though he could see that she was swaying slightly from excertion.

"It is late", he said, suddenly realizing that it was indeed already past nine o'clock and that she was probably out longer than she was allowed to be. "I think you should hurry home. I hope you won't get into trouble."

She shook her head.

"They don't care. I suppose Deb is passed out in front of the tv again. She drinks too much. And Wayne's not even home. He's a trucker and normally on the road for several days in a row. As long as I am there to make Deb's breakfast in the morning, I'm good."

Eliot winced slightly. That did not sound good. He wondered if the youth welfare service was aware of her situation. 

"Anyway. You have school tomorrow, I suppose, so you should get home and get some rest. Believe me, it's gonna be hard enough to get out of bed tomorrow morning."

She looked at him.

"Why?"

"Cause I guess you are going to feel pretty sore. You used a lot of muscles you normally don't use, or at least not to this extent."

"Can I come back tomorrow?"

Eliot shook his head.

"I'm not working tomorrow. My boss is gonna be here instead. And besides, it is better to give your muscles some rest between workouts. If you like, you can come back on Thursday, same time as today, after official business hours are over."

She smiled with a warm happy smile that seemed to come from deep inside her. 

"Thank you."

"Eh ... kid ... this", he gestured vaguely towards the workout equipment they had used, "it would be good if we could keep this our little secret." He felt bad about having to ask her this. It sounded like something a perv in a park would say. She just shrugged.

"Sure. Who would I tell, anyway? See you on Thursday!"

She hurried out of the door as if she was afraid he was about to change his mind about the whole thing. Which in fact he was. He was taking an awful risk in letting her come here. Fredo would surely sack him if he found out and if she sustained any injury while training here, he would be in deep deep trouble. But she had looked so forlorn and the few things she had revealed about her home situation sounded like she really needed a friend.


	2. Don't Ask Me That

She did come back on Thursday. And on Saturday. And any other day after that, whenever Eliot told her he would be able to make time for her. At first he tried to get her to open up and talk about her life and her interests a little bit, but it always seem to make her uncomfortable. Or she answered in that matter of fact unemotional way of hers, which made him uncomfortable. And she never asked him anything about himself in return, so after a while he cut back the smalltalk altogether and they usually kept their conversations strictly on the work-out.

One night, after about three weeks, she let the dumbbells sink in frustration in the middle of a set of lunges. 

"It is not working", she complained. Eliot raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"What do you mean, it's not working?"

"I am not getting stronger."

He finished the last two reps of the squats he was doing and hoisted the bar bell back onto the stand. Then he sat down on a bench, wiping the sweat from his face with a towel. 

"Of course you are getting stronger. Just think on how few lunges you could do in the beginning. You are doing twice as many now. And with extra weight, at that. And you could do one single pathetic pull-up when we started. How many can you do now?"

She climbed on a bench and jumped up to the bar.

"One ... two ... three ...", she started counting, until she finally jumped back down, panting, with a triumphant "eight"

"See. So don't give me that crap about not getting stronger."

She sat down on the floor cross legged, opposite of him, but avoiding his gaze, looking at her feet instead.

"Yeah, but it's not working fast enough."

With a pang Eliot realized he had never questioned where her motivatin to be strong came from. He was so used to working out and keeping in shape that he had just assumed she was following the same natural urge to be fitter and healthier.

"Fast enough for what?", he asked. "Why is it so important for you to get strong fast?"

"It just is."

He looked at her intently.

"Is it the kids at school? Is someone giving you a hard time there?"

She snorted.

"No. Those losers have nothing on me."

Eliot bit back a smile at her wording.

"Good! Because, you know I could just drop by during your lunch break, and if anyone at school is bullying you, I could set his head straight, okay?", he offered.

She shook her head.

"No. School is okay."

"So, anyone else then? Any enemies you want to beat up?"

She shook her head.

"No one I can't handle."

"What then? Why do you have the urge to become Hercules?"

She shrugged, jumped back to her feet and picked the dumbbells back up.

"Never mind. I just have to work harder."

She started on her lunges again. Eliot gave her another quizzical look, but since she did not seem inclined to prolong the conversation, he went back to his own routine as well. 

She pushed herself harder than ever before that night. Eliot saw her knees shaking when he finally forced her to stop. 

"Are you okay?", he asked.

She nodded. 

"How far away do you live?" 

"Just a few blocks."

"You want me to give you a ride home? You look like you can hardly stand, let alone walk." He slipped a sweat hoody over his head and started changing his shoes.

"Nah ... I'm fine."

Eliot decided to leave it at that.

"Okay, your call. Do you want to come in on Monday?"

She nodded again and walked over to the door. When she pulled it open, suddenly her legs gave out under her and she ended up a cross-legged little heap on the floor. Eliot jumped to her side in alarm.

"Whoa, easy. What was that?"

Her face was deadly pale, even her lips seemed to have lost their natural color.

"Don't know." Her voice was small and she looked up at him with wide hollow eyes. "I'm dizzy."

He lifted her up from the floor and carefully placed her on one of the benches. She weighed next to nothing and he could feel her shaking in his arms. He probed with his fingers for her neck artery. Her pulse was racing, but not very strong.

"When was the last time you have eaten something?", he asked.

She considered the question for a moment.

"Breakfast", she finally answered. Eliot shook his head.

"No wonder you are feeling crappy. You can't go the whole day without food and then work out like this on top of it. Where is your body supposed to get the energy from?"

"I didn't have lunch money today", she defended herself. "It's the end of the month. Deb is always broke by the end of the month. I had planned to grab an apple at home before coming over, but I guess I forgot."

Eliot ground his teeth at that. He went over to the counter and grabbed an energy bar and a bottle of Gatorade. 

"Here. Eat this. Slowly. And have a few sips of that stuff as well. You'll feel better after. It's your blood sugar level, you know? When you go all day without eating, your body uses up all the reserves it has. And when they are all gone and you still don't eat anything, it just shuts down all functions it does not need to survive. That's why you are feeling so lousy."

He knew it was a bit more complicated than that, but he was not about to give her a biology lecture on liver metabolism, insulin and glycogen storage. He watched while she devoured the energy bar and gulped down half of the Gatorade. He took off his hoody again and wrapped it around her shoulders. She huddled into the warmth of it gratefully.

Eliot watched her closely and was relieved to see that his prediction had been right and the color returned to her skin almost instantly after she had eaten something. 

"So", he asked. "Does that happen often? You not having lunch?"

She shrugged.

"Sometimes."

"What about dinner? Does Deb cook you dinner at night?"

She laughed, as if the thought of her foster mother actually preparing food for her was the biggest joke in the world. Eliot tried not to let his anger at that woman creep into his voice.

"What do you eat then? Like now, when you get home?"

"Whatever. Sometimes I eat a peanut butter sandwich. I like that. But at the moment the only bread left is mouldy. And Deb can't buy new grocerys until the money comes in next week. So I guess I'll go with a bowl of cereal. I think there even is some milk left ... if she has not fed it to the neighbors' cat again. She sometimes does that, because she thinks the cat is cute. Oh, and there are still apples. The cat does not like apples, so those will definitely be there."

This was so far from a healthy and sufficient diet, that he didn't even know, where to start. It made him wonder how she had managed to keep up with her workouts at all and to gain the strength she had. What he felt like doing was going to the girl's house and dangling that Deb woman from the balcony by one ankle until she started seeing some sense. What he probably should be doing was to contact Youth Services to inform them of the situation. 

"Look", he said. "If you really want to get stronger, your body needs to build muscle. And to do that, it needs a certain amount of food. Good food. Protein, mostly, so milk, or eggs, or meat. Legumes work as well: soy beans, peas, lentils ... and you need vitamins and minerals. And when you work out, your body burns carbs ... carbohydrates, that's sugar and rice and everything that is made from flour, so you need to eat some of that as well. Preferably before you excercise. I don't want you to make a science out of it or count calories or anything, but you do need more than dry cereal and an apple. Do you understand that? That's important. That's every bit as important as lifting weights for becoming strong."

"I understand", she said. "It's just hard to do, sometimes."

"Well, we have to find a way to make it work. Because otherwise all the effort you put in here at the gym is pretty much wasted."

She cocked her head.

"Maybe I can steal some food from the supermarket after school."

She said it with such casualness that it did not register at first. When it did he jumped up so fast that he almost knocked her off the bench.

"No!", he shouted. "You cannot steal food. Damnit, what are you thinking?"

She shrunk away from him, lifting her arms in defense as if she was expecting him to hit her. It made him even angrier. Not at her, but at the people who were supposed to take care of her and who were obviously failing so miserably. He forced himself to lower his voice as he squatted down in front of her.

"Listen, Lisa."

The use of her name made her flinch even more.

"Don't call me that", she whispered. "Please! Don't. You are not one of them. Please! Please don't call me that."

It was getting worse by the second and Eliot felt at his wits' end. He wanted to help her. More than anything he wanted this scrawny little girl that had been washed into his life to feel safe. To be safe. And provided for in the way that every child should. 

"What do you want me to call you then? You still haven't said. Shall I call you Hercules?"

That made her relax her arms and brought a little smile to her lips. 

"No"

"What then? Choose a name. Any name."

She looked around. 

"Parker", she said out of the blue.

He followed her gaze to one of the squat racks. The lettering beside the logo read "Parker's Gym Equipment"

"Okay. Would that be your first name or your last name, then?"

"Both. Either. Just Parker. You said I could choose" 

"Parker. I like it. So. Listen, Parker, you can't steal, okay?"

She looked at him as if he was stupid.

"Of course I can. I'm even quite good at it. At least that's what Archie says."

Eliot sighed. This was getting more and more messed up. 

"That's not what I mean. I mean, it is wrong to steal. It will get you into trouble."

"Only if I get caught. Which I won't, because I am good at it."

"But it is mean towards the people you steal from."

She thought about this for a second.

"So what if I only steal from people who've been mean to me first?"

"It's still not ... for God's sake, you shouldn't have to steal in the first place."

He took a deep breath.

"Look. It just seems to me that your foster parents don't take very good care of you. And they should. They get paid by the system to look after you and feed you and teach you the right values, and apparently they don't do any of these things very well. Maybe it would be better if we talked to Youth Services about that."

"NO! Don't do that" She screamed so loudly that it made him jump and this time it was him who brought up his hands defensively.

"Why? I didn't get the impression you cared much for your foster parents."

"Yeah, but believe me, they are not so bad. If you rat on them, then the YS will just move me to another place, which could be who knows where with who knows what scum again and I wouldn't be able to come here and work out anymore and I probably could not see Archie anymore either. Please! Please believe me. I'm good with Deb and Wayne. Really."

"Everything you told me so far didn't sound like it", Eliot said. "I cannot believe that you wouldn't be better off with another family."

She took a deep breath. Her voice sounded older, suddenly.

"Eliot, now you listen to me. I have been living in the system since I was five. I've had my share of foster homes. And I assure you: every single one of them was worse than what I have now with Deb and Wayne. A lot worse. Trust me on this."

He felt a lump in his throat and swallowed to clear it.

"Worse how?"

"Don't ask me that, Eliot"

He opened his mouth to protest, but she continued.

"Because if you ask me, I am going to tell you. So don't ask me."

He hung his head for a moment, then looked at her.

"Worse how?", he repeated.

"Worse like Greg and Maria locking me into the little chamber in the basement for days and days when I had been 'bad'. They were my first foster parents. I had just turned five. And then there was Buck, who liked to put out his cigarettes on my thigh. You want to see the scars? Or Jeremiah and Gertrud, who were so godfearing and devout that they felt obliged to hit me every Sunday after service with a belt for good measure, because they were into that 'spare the rod, spoil the child' crap. Or Gerald, who would come into my room at night, as soon as Francine had gone to sleep, and force his finger into me, until he finally decided that I was now grown up enough that he could actually use his cock. I had to blow their fucking house up to get out of there. Is that worse enough for you? Or would you like me to go on? Cos there is more."

Her voice had become louder and harder and now that she stopped the sudden silence rang through the room. Eliot stared at her, suddenly aware that there was something wet running down his cheek. 

"Please, Parker, stop", he managed to say while angrily wiping away the tears. "I ... I am so sorry. I don't know what to say. It ... it should not be that way."

"Yeah, right it shouldn't. But that's how it is. The chances of finding a foster family that deserves the name 'home' are very very slim." 

Eliot nodded numbly. Then something sank in.

"Did you really blow up their house?"

"Don't freak. They weren't even in it at the time. Even though they deserved to be."

"How?"

"Gas stove and a candle. It was easy, actually. They had to move me after that, so I came to Deb and Wayne. Do you understand now why I want to stay with them? At least I am safe there and they leave me alone. They hardly ever even hit me."

"They hit you?"

"Hardly ever. Twice so far. And at least once I probably deserved it."

This rabbit hole was getting deeper and deeper and Eliot really wasn't sure how to handle it. He wished he could take care of Parker somehow, but he had just finished school himself and he would be leaving for the military soon. A few more weeks and he would be out of here. He rested his face in his hand for a moment, his shoulders sagging. He felt drained and helpless.

"I told you not to ask me", Parker said, her voice quiet again. She extended a hand as if she wanted to comfort him, but then retracted it again without touching him.

Eliot pulled himself together.

"It's okay. I'm glad you told me. I will find a way to help you. I promise. Just ... just not tonight, okay? You're tired and hungry, I'm tired and hungry. Problems like this ... they are hard to fix any time, but they sure aren't fixed while you are tired and hungry. Do you like Thai?"

She looked confused at the sudden change of subject.

"Thai? What, like Thai boxing?"

"Now, dummy. Like Thai food."

"I don't know. I never had it. And don't call me 'dummy'."

He laughed.

"Okay, smarty. How would you like to try out Thai food then? My treat."

"Don't call me that either. I thought you liked Parker."

Eliot rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Okay ... Parker ... will you let me buy you dinner, please? I am starving here, you know."

She shrugged.

"Okay. Let's go!"


	3. Another Brick in the Wall

Parker lay in her bed and stretched her arms and legs languorously. She could not remember the last time she had felt so good. The taste of the curry still lingered in her mouth. She had decided that Thai was her most favorite food in all the world, from the very first bite she took. The only thing she didn't like had been the prawns and she had passed them on to Eliot who had happily devoured them. She had probably eaten more last night than ever before. After starters and the main course, Eliot had insisted on her having dessert as well. And even though they had both been so hungry, there was still a lot of food left when they had gotten to the point where they really could not eat anymore. Eliot had talked to the waiter and he had packed it up in a little aluminium foil tray for Parker to take home with her.

"Put it into the fridge for tomorrow", he had suggested.

She had not done that, of course. If she put it in the fridge, Deb would find it and eat it herself. And she would question Parker how it got there, and she did not want to tell her about Eliot and the gym. She liked to keep things separate. It was easier that way. So she had just brought the food up to her room with her and hit it under her bed. She planned to eat it today, maybe even for breakfast, so she was pretty sure it would not go off until then. If she brought it down to the kitchen early enough, before Deb got up, she could even microwave it to heat it up.

The first light of morning was seeping in through the window and Parker checked the time on her alarm clock. It was just past five. Very early for a Saturday morning. But she did not feel tired at all. Instead she was buzzing with energy. Suddenly she remembered the money. Had that been a dream? Carefully she shoved her hand in the slot between the matress and the bed-head and felt a surge of excitement when her fingertips found the paper note. She pulled it out and stared at it in the dim morning light. $ 20. It was the first time she had ever owned that much money. She rubbed then note gently between her fingers and stared at every little detail of the delicately lined print on it. It was the most beautiful thing she ever knew. She just could not believe that Eliot had just given it to her. Well, technically, he had not "just" given it to her. He had made her promise that she would use it for school lunch only. Parker had readily promised she would not spend it on anything else, but had been very careful of her wording, because, actually, from the second she had seen it, she had known that she would not spend this note on anything. Ever. She intended to keep it safely hidden and just take it out and look at it, whenever she felt bad.

"What do you want me to do for this?", she had asked, when Eliot handed her the note.

"What do you mean? You don't have to do anything. It's for your lunch."

"People don't just give each other money. Do you ..." She had hesitated, because she did not want him to be one of those men, but she wanted the money more than anything. "Do you want to have sex with me? Is that it?"

"Damnit Parker!"

He had jumped away from her as if she had bitten him and had sounded so angry that she had feared he would strike her. His voice had changed tone at once, though.

"Listen, Parker, I don't want to ... you don't have to do anything for this money. I just want you to be able to afford lunch when you need it, okay? No strings attached."

"But why?" She had put the money into her pocket at that point, before he could change his mind about it, but she needed to know.

"Because I am your friend, alright? I want to help you. I know, giving you twenty bucks is not a real solution, but maybe it will at least keep you fed until I can work something out."

She had left it at that and Eliot had driven her home soon afterward. But now she was starting to worry. She hoped that Eliot had understood that he must not involve Youth Services in this. She had everything planned already and just could not have anyone interfere at this point. She just needed to get that little bit stronger yet. She was almost there. She thought about telling Eliot about Archie and the job and her spot on his crew, but she had a feeling, Eliot would not approve. Plus, Archie had made it very clear that she was not to tell anyone about any of this or she was out for good.

She kicked back the blanket and sat up. She would not been able to go back to sleep anyway, so she might as well get up and practice. With a little sigh she hid the $ 20 note behind the mattress again and got dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt. Then she grabbed the big backpack Archie had lend her and slipped out of the door.

It was still pretty chilly outside and she wrapped her arms around her body protectively. She should have taken a jacket, but she did not want to waste time by going back. Also, she was sure she would be warm in not time, once she started climbing.

She jogged through the quiet streets. She had expected to be sore and tired from the hard workout yesterday, but she felt stronger and more energized than ever before after the delicious meal. Hardly anyone was up yet, which made it the perfect time for training. Finally she reached her destination, an abandoned brick building which had once belonged to a factory. Now it had been standing empty and derelict for a long time, the last glass windows smashed many years ago. Archie had showed her the place a few weeks ago.

"This is where you will practice. If you make it all the way up to the roof with 20 bricks in your backpack, then you are ready for the job. The actual place is very similar to this."

The 20 bricks, he had explained, weighed about as much as the gear she would have to get up to the roof: a pullywheel and a long steel enforced rope.

Parker looked around to make sure she was on her own and then began packing bricks into the backpack. Up to now, she had always practiced with fewer bricks. Only five at first, then, as she had started to get stronger, ten and recently fifteen. But now she felt ready and kept searching for more loose bricks lying around until she had twenty. She grunted a bit as she swung the pack back over her shoulder. Even standing on the ground it was pulling her back. It would feel a lot heavier, once she was in the wall.

The trick was, she had learned, to keep her weight close to the wall and preferably centered over one foot for as long as possible. That made it a lot less exhausting. The mortar between the bricks had withered and crumpled away in many places and provided nooks and crevices which were just big enough to allow her fingers or the toes of her shoes in. She was not allowed to use any of the windows as resting places or steps, though, Archie had said, because the real wall would not have windows. That meant that she had to do the complete wall, which was a bit over 30 feet high, pretty much in one go. So far, she had made it to the top once, but that had been without the backpack. Loaded down with the bricks, she always had to give up at some point. Sometimes she had managed to save herself into one of the window reveals, but most of the time she had just slipped and fallen back to the ground.

She started her ascend slowly and carefully. She knew the lower part of the wall inside out by now, but she knew she must not let that lure her into false sense of security, because the real wall would be completely unknown to her. So she took her time, carefully probing every hold with her fingers and toes before she put weight on it. Despite the heavy backpack, the climb felt easier than it ever had before and she was already over twenty feet high when she had to rest for the first time. Standing on two relatively generous footholds for a few seconds, she allowed herself time for a few deep breaths and shook out first one hand and then the other before getting ready to move on. Time was an issue, Archie had said, because there would be guards patrolling the premises and they only had a certain window to get up the wall before the next guard would come through. But Parker had learned that rushing through a climb was not the best of ideas. It was better to take those extra few moments than to run out of steam completely and then get stuck or even fall.

She was starting to feel the heavier weight of the pack now, especially on her fingers. Acutally, she had come to realize that her fingers were probably the part of her body that held her back most at the moment. The strength training had done a lot for the bigger muscles, all through her body, but holding on to small protrusions on the wall was still a major challenge. She made a mental note to ask Eliot about it. Maybe he would have an idea how she could train the fingers more. 

Parker found a new foothold with the toes of her left foot and carefully shifted her weight onto it. It felt stable enough and she pushed with her left leg, reaching up with her free hand and stretching the right foot out sideways for balance. The brick under her foot, which was now supporting pretty much her complete weight, broke away without any warning. Parker desperately held on with her right hand as her body slammed against the wall, her face making painful contact with the rough surface of the bricks. She kicked with both feet, frantically searching for a support, but she felt the fingers of her right hand give way and slip before she could find a hold somewhere. All she could do now was to push herself away from the wall and try to control her fall. 

She hit the ground hard, but at least feet first, and dropped into a roll, which was stopped painfully by the heavy backpack. She lay still for a few seconds to catch her breath, before carefully trying to wriggle out of the straps of the pack. A soft whimper escaped her lips when she finally managed to roll off it and sit up. She had fallen many times before - it kind of came with the territory of climbing without safeguards - but never as awkward as this. She quickly took stock: at least she was able to move her arms and legs. She was bleeding from a few scrapes on her forearms and, she determined by gently touching her cheek where it had crashed into the wall, her face as well. It would have to wait for later, though, she decided. She knew she needed to get moving quickly. It would be much harder to get up once the adrenalin wore off completely. She winced when she got to her feet. Her left ankle hurt and she almost fell back to the ground when it refused to take her weight. Hobbling around on one foot, she somehow managed to grab the backpack and turn it over so that the bricks spilled out onto the ground, before she slung it over her shoulders again. She sighed. That would be a long and painful walk home.


End file.
